The Empty Party — Part I: The Brain

The invitations were never sent—

they were thought into existence.

Folded between neurons,

sealed with doubt,

addressed to memories that moved away without leaving a trace.

Welcome to the party inside my brain.

Population:

…pending.

I flipped the switch—

nothing.

No music.

Just static stretched thin across the walls of my mind,

pretending to be sound.

The lights flicker like nervous habits.

On. Off. On—

never fully alive.

This place was supposed to be loud.

Electric.

A riot of ideas clinking glasses,

synapses snapping like fireworks—

But every spark

burned out before it introduced itself.

The dance floor sits in the center of my thoughts.

I cleared space for movement,

polished it with expectation—

Now it’s just a circle

where overthinking paces

in tight, obsessive loops.

One.

Two.

Did I say the wrong thing?

Three.

Four.

Why does everything feel like before?

I tried to call in the guests.

“Joy? You coming?”

Voicemail.

“Focus? I need you here.”

Call failed.

“Motivation?”

…number disconnected.

Even the chaos didn’t show.

Even the pain stayed quiet.

Just this silence—

thick, unmoving—

like the air itself is thinking too hard

and forgot how to breathe.

My thoughts sit like empty chairs,

arguing with nobody.

A sentence starts—

then forgets its ending.

A memory walks in—

then dissolves mid-step

like it realized it wasn’t invited either.

And in the far corner of my mind,

there’s something left.

It used to be a voice.

It used to run everything.

Now it’s small.

Glitching.

Repeating the same question on loop:

“Why is it so quiet?”

“Why is it so quiet?”

“Why is it so—”

I tried to answer.

But my words don’t echo here anymore.

They just land—

flat, unheard—

like confetti thrown into a vacuum.

So I stand

in the center of my own brain,

surrounded by invitations that never arrived,

waiting for a crowd

that might have only ever existed

as a possibility.

And the worst part?

I don’t even know

if I want them to come anymore.

Because after this much silence…

noise feels like a rumor

my mind no longer believes.